


An Increase of Virility and Passion

by tuesdaymidnight



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Fluff, M/M, Percival has feelings, excessive mentions of Gwaine's hair, sex potion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-09
Updated: 2014-02-09
Packaged: 2018-01-11 18:08:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,488
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1176230
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tuesdaymidnight/pseuds/tuesdaymidnight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Percival and Gwaine have been fooling around for months, though ever since Lancelot, Percival has kept careful guard over his heart. Gwaine comes to Percival one evening with a sex potion from Merlin, and Percival worries that magic might open up more than just physical pleasure.</p>
            </blockquote>





	An Increase of Virility and Passion

**Author's Note:**

> This is an expansion of an entry I wrote for Summer Pornathon under the "sex magic" prompt. I only finished it now because [donnersun](http://archiveofourown.org/users/donnersun) rather rudely tweeted me [this gif](http://25.media.tumblr.com/002c83d41ff2c25c538249966bb9988c/tumblr_mjcyr5eK991rfcdu4o5_500.gif).
> 
> Thank you as always to the wonderful [OnTheTurningAway](http://archiveofourown.org/users/OnTheTurningAway) for catching all my mistakes.

Whatever anyone thought, Percival wasn't dumb. 

Yes, he was big and a man of few words, and that tended to lead people to make assumptions. Since childhood, he had learned to be careful with his size, not to hurt, not to intimidate, except when it was his duty to fight. His taciturn demeanour was only what people saw on the surface; underneath, Percival was keenly observant. He often saw what others missed or overlooked. 

He had suspected Merlin's magic from the moment they met, although he never said anything to betray the sorcerer, his friend. 

He also knew Gwaine was interested in him, long before Gwaine ever built up the courage to make a move. 

Gwaine made eyes at everyone. Tavern girls, serving maids, and merchant women were one thing, but he also wasn't shy about looking the stable hands and metal smiths up and down. Though Gwaine had a way of disarming people of their judgement, he was more careful around his fellow knights. They all knew Gwaine's wide range of preference, but some of them were wary about having it directed at them. 

Percival, on the other hand, had always liked men. 

Tucked safely in the toe of his boot were Lancelot's colours from the tournament where they first met. He still mourned the loss of the first man who had become more than a few stolen, fumbling moments in the stables or out in the woods like the others before him. 

They had spent two years together, fighting and entering tournaments. Percival had been orphaned and Lancelot felt betrayed by the nobility in his heart. What happened between them was enough to start to mend the broken pieces of Percival's heart. 

No one ever asked when Percival would light a candle in the chapel, assuming it was for his family, taken from him by Cenred's wrath. It was for them too, but a piece of himself would always belong to Lancelot. 

That was only part of the reason why he rebuffed Gwaine's subtle flirtations in the beginning, as Gwaine made ridiculous attempts to determine Percival's persuasion—from training shirtless, to bathing directly in Percival's line of sight on patrol missions, to asking Percival if he found any of the Arthur's pages attractive. 

Gwaine would never hurt Percival on purpose, but he had the power to, even if he didn't know it. Of course, Percival could keep his feelings out of it. Gwaine was good-looking man, and if even half of the stories he told of his conquests were true, then he was quite skilled in the art of passion. But Gwaine was Percival's best friend, and Percival knew it would be as easy as breathing to get his heart carelessly entangled with Gwaine's.

When it came down to it, though, Gwaine was the only good chance for Percival to take on a lover serving as a knight of Camelot, so eventually, Percival steeled his heart and gave in. 

The first time, they didn't talk about it. Percival had volunteered to check the northern border, and Gwaine offered to go with him. Arthur told them to behave themselves, more worried they would wind up sloppy in a tavern, picking fights and frisking barmaids. What actually happened was Gwaine shoving Percival roughly up against a tree, pulling down Percival's breeches, and sucking his brain out through his cock when they stopped for the night. 

Percival carded his hands through Gwaine's hair, cataloguing the way it felt in case it never happened again, the way Gwaine responded, the sounds he made, as if he was dying and Percival's prick was going to bring him back to life. 

“I've been dying to do that,” Gwaine said as he settled back on his heels. 

“I know,” Percival said. 

“You don't have to sound so smug about it.” 

Percival leaned back against the tree to catch his breath and gather his wits. He'd had an inkling something like this was going to happen, but he hadn't quite prepared for how good it would feel to have another man's hands on him again.

“Where I come from, it's polite to return the favour. Or at least offer.” Gwaine's voice cut through Percival's thoughts, bringing him back into the moment.

“Wouldn't want to be impolite,” Percival murmured, before tackling Gwaine to the ground and making quick work of Gwaine's needs. 

Nothing much changed between them after that evening, and Percival was grateful for it. They had always spent their time off duty together. Now their preferred activities included fewer clothes and more closed doors. 

It was months after that first encounter in the woods, and Percival was looking forward to his first evening off patrolling in weeks. Unlike the other knights, he had no desire to spend it in the tavern. Instead, he convinced the laundry maids to let him use a tub for a hot bath. After a long soak, he slipped back to his quarters.

He was about to snuff out his candle when he heard a soft knock on his door. Without waiting for his response, the door swung open and Gwaine strode in. It was a cool evening, but Gwaine's shirt was unlaced and his jacket unbuttoned. He was windblown, his hair tousled as always, and Percival would have been lying if he said the way Gwaine smiled at him didn't make his stomach flip. 

“Not that I'm not glad to see you, but I thought you were on patrol tonight,” Percival said calmly, counter to his racing pulse.

“I switched nights with Leon.”

Percival was about to ask why when Gwaine beat him to it. 

“I have a surprise for you.” Gwaine pulled a vial out of his pocket and waggled it in front of Percival's face. It looked like the vials Merlin and Gaius used to carry their liquid medicines. It was filled with a thick, green liquid. 

“What is that?”

“It's a magic potion.”

“What does it do?”

“It's a magic _sex_ potion,” Gwaine corrected. “According to Merlin's book, it's supposed to 'increase virility and passion'.”

“And what does _that_ mean?” Percival was limited in his knowledge of what magic could do, but he tended to think about it in terms of curses and deceptions. 

“I assume it means it'll increase my already exemplary sex skills.” Gwaine broke Percival's line of thought.

Though Gwaine was boasting, he wasn't wrong. Sex with Gwaine was usually perfunctory out of necessity, but it was always more than satisfying. They both got off, quickly in whatever hidden moments they could find, and it was good. Percival kept his heart out of it as best he could, and he enjoyed the pleasure Gwaine brought him. 

Gwaine bringing him a sex potion was different. 

Percival almost turned him away, set on getting a full night's rest and not in the mood to take a risk with the potion, but part of him was intrigued. Since Merlin had confided in them his magical abilities, Percival was aching with curiosity to experience it in some way. Numerous times he had started to ask Merlin about it, but he could never quite find a way to broach it without sounding accusatory. Plus, Gwaine looked so eager, Percival couldn’t say no.

“All right.”

“Really?”

“You could use more virility.”

Gwaine shot him a dirty look, but he uncapped the vial, sniffed the contents, and then shrugged before taking a large swig. He swallowed without flinching, which Percival took to be a good sign, before he passed the vial over.

Percival brought it up to his nose tentatively. Though the colour was off, it didn’t smell much different than the tincture Merlin gave him the last time he had a fever. He took a deep breath before draining the vial.

He swallowed the contents easily. The potion didn't taste very different from the fever tincture either. He stood very still, waiting for something to happen. 

Nothing seemed different until Percival glanced up at Gwaine and was startled. He wondered if magic could work so quickly, because Gwaine _looked_ different. There was a new intensity to his gaze; his eyes were wide, pupils blown. Percival's stomach somersaulted harder, and suddenly he was light-headed.

Gwaine stripped quickly, barely breaking eye contact, leaving his clothes in a pile on the floor. Percival followed his lead.

Percival felt exposed twice over as Gwaine looked him up and down, eyes lingering on Percival's thickening cock. 

“Sit on the bed, against the wall there,” Gwaine ordered, his voice cracking.

Percival saw no reason to argue and did as he was told. He fixed his eyes on Gwaine, who stalked the few short paces towards him, straddled his thighs, and then leaned down to capture Percival's lips in a bruising kiss. 

Gwaine tugged at Percival's bottom lip with his teeth, which sent a shiver down Percival’s spine. Then Gwaine moved to his neck and found a spot behind his ear that seemed connected to Percival's cock.

“How did you know just there?” Percival asked with a strained voice.

“Magic,” Gwaine whispered, and nipped at the spot again.

Percival could only respond by gripping Gwaine's arse cheeks and squeezing, pulling Gwaine closer so their pricks brushed against each other. Gwaine groaned into Percival’s mouth as he pushed his hips forward.

It had never been like this. It wasn't just that they had a real bed and a full night off patrol. It wasn't that they were indulging in full nudity and kissing, and all the things they never had privacy to do. No, it was that every last inch of Percival's skin was at attention, greedy for Gwaine's touch. His hands wanted to be everywhere on Gwaine's body all at once. Gwaine's skin was soft and smooth, even though there was nothing soft about Gwaine's body. Both men were hard muscle and strength. They were both too accustomed to long hours of hard work to feel so breathless and desperate. 

But Percival knew Gwaine felt it too.

“I need that giant prick of yours inside me or I'm going to die,” Gwaine murmured.

“Gods,” Percival moaned.

Gwaine grabbed the oil from the shelf by the bed. He reached around and slicked himself before coating Percival's cock and sinking slowly down. Percival’s heart raced as though he was spending a hard day's training. Gwaine was everywhere, around him, on top of him, and Percival clung to him as if he were drowning. They fell into a frantic rhythm with Percival thrusting up and Gwaine slamming back down until they were panting in exertion. Percival tried to fight off his orgasm, not wanting it to end, but Gwaine was overwhelming him. The space between their bodies was nonexistent. Gwaine's breath was hot against the crook of Percival's neck, and Percival couldn't hold back. 

He tried to reach a hand in between them, but Gwaine brushed him away. 

“Don’t need it,” Gwaine stuttered out just as Percival felt his seed between them. As Gwaine came, his channel tightened and it wrested Percival’s own orgasm from him.

He didn't loosen his grip on Gwaine for some time. It took twice as long as usual for his prick to soften. After he pulled out, both men sprawled out on the bed boneless. 

“Well, that was intense,” Percival finally said.

“Yeah, I—”

“Stay,” Percival blurted out. He was still determined to get a good night's sleep, and Gwaine was warm and pliant beside him in the small bed.

“Okay,” Gwaine whispered, and he settled in, flinging his arm across Percival's chest, fitting easily at Percival’s side. 

Percival brought his arm up to stroke down Gwaine' back. He vaguely thought they should clean themselves up, but exhaustion overtook him. 

He awoke to a mouthful of hair, Gwaine sprawled across him, his hard cock pressing against Percival's thigh. 

Without yet being fully conscious, Gwaine rutted against him. It was an oddly comforting way to awaken. Percival took the familiar weight in his hand and started stroking. After a few minutes, Gwaine's hand closed around his own cock. In the bleary moments before first light, they brought each other off lazily. 

It was a sharp contrast to the mood of the night before, but there was a comfortable warmth between them that had never been there before. Gwaine didn't seem at all unnerved with the new level of intimacy. He planted a sloppy kiss on Percival's cheek and then sat up and scrubbed a hand over his face.

“I'm famished,” Gwaine announced. 

They got dressed and went to the kitchens to snag a fresh loaf of bread before breakfast was officially served as they always did. 

Later that morning Percival ran into Merlin. 

“Thank you for the potion last night, Merlin.”

“Percy, I have to confess,” Merlin started. He looked down at his feet. “There wasn't any magic in that potion. I couldn't get the spell to work, so I just added some clove to the fever tincture.” 

Percival flushed all over. If Merlin noticed his embarrassment, he said nothing. 

Luckily, Percival was saved by the unmistakable brisk cadence of Arthur's boots. He slipped away just as the king called out, “Merlin!” and he went to go find Gwaine. There wasn't any doubt in his mind that he needed to tell Gwaine the truth about the potion, and it wasn't simply because of the oaths of knighthood. 

He found Gwaine on the training field sparring with Elyan. Shirtless as usual, Gwaine's body glistened with sweat, and Percival couldn't help but stare. 

Eventually he managed to catch Gwaine's eye, and Gwaine stopped toying with the less-experienced swordsman and quickly ended the duel. He offered a hand to the fallen Elyan before he trotted over to Percival with a toss of his hair. 

“Like what you see,” Gwaine said with a waggle of his eyebrows. 

Percival simply jerked his head toward the woods. Gwaine grabbed his shirt from the fence and followed without another word.

Once they were out of earshot from the other knights, Percival stopped. “There wasn't any magic in that potion.” The words rushed out of his mouth before he could stop and consider the consequences of them.

“Oh, well, I kind of figured,” Gwaine said with a shrug. 

“You did?” Percival was rarely surprised, and this was twice in one morning. 

“Well, in spite of what he thinks, Merlin's a shoddy liar.” 

Percival backed a few steps away from Gwaine, trying to gather his thoughts. Gwaine had known the whole time. The gesture was subtle, and so very unlike Gwaine, Percival's heart started racing at the implication.

“So,” Percival started.

“So, we had a good night, didn't we?” Gwaine's smile was so easy, the knot forming in Percival's stomach loosened.

“We did.”

“And the waking up in the morning bit was kind of nice, too.”

“It was,” Percival agreed, stepping forward to give Gwaine's shoulder a squeeze.

Gwaine grinned. “Now that that's settled, how are we going to get back at Merlin?”


End file.
